<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>It's not your time to die by Bumble_Bean_365</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958520">It's not your time to die</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumble_Bean_365/pseuds/Bumble_Bean_365'>Bumble_Bean_365</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Depressed Tommyinnit, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY IF TOMMY JUST GOT THERAPY OKAY?, Hurt No Comfort, JUST, Just sad really, Miscommunication, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Tommyinnit, i think, no beta we die like men, poor Tommy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:54:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumble_Bean_365/pseuds/Bumble_Bean_365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the exile, Tommy's not doing so hot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's not your time to die</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>MASSIVE TRIGGERWARNING for suicidal thoughts and contemplation, please be careful if you're affected by it in any way &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommy felt the sweltering heat all around him, it felt suffocating, like he could choke on it if he wasn't careful. The weather in the hell dimension never changed, it was always hot, always humid, the floor and wall scorching to the touch. He felt the heat from the blackstone beneath his feet through the soles of his worn out sneakers. He knew it was stupid to go to the nether dimension without armour, or at least protective shoes but now that he’d been exiled from his home, his friends, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with nothing but the shirt on his back and the shoes on his feet, he had nothing to protect himself with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard Dream, Sapnap and Will laughing through the communicator he had hooked up to his ear piece. The one thing that Dream had let him keep when they exiled him, the one thing that kept him from being completely alone. The three voices on the other end of the line were laughing and chatting about how beautifully the town had been decorated for Christmas. Will had gone to take a picture of the communal Christmas tree they’d put up because Tommy wasn’t allowed to go see it himself. Wilbur was sweet like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But somehow the thought of seeing the country he built with his bare hands, the country he sacrificed everything for, through a photograph because he wasn’t allowed to see it with his own eyes under the penalty of certain death- it stung. It stung in a way Tommy had never felt before. Of course his heart had ached when Wilbur was killed and came back as a ghost without any memory of the bad he did but Tommy had never really processed that the way the slow realisation that he would never go home again was creeping up on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> see his home again, he’d never see his friends or family again, he was all alone. The only people that talked to him were Dream and Wilbur, Dream to make fun of him and burn any supplies he managed to scrounge together in the forest and then Wilbur, sweet Will, not a care in the world after he died, it was like all his worries and bad memories died with his body, nothing left but the carefree spirit who’s trauma was shielded from him by the barrier of death.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Death. Tommy let the word float around in his head. That sounded… good. Nothingness, that’s what death would bring, and if nothing else he might end up like his brother, shielded too from his trauma, happily living his life collecting ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>blue</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ or whatever Wilbur calls it. It would be so easy, too easy. It's not like anybody would miss him. Tubbo sure wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought of Tubbo made tears well in his eyes. His friend. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Ex-best friend. He could still hear Tubbo’s words ringing in his ears, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy, you had one job. And- and you messed it up.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The disappointment his friend had felt for him in that moment will follow him to the grave- however long until that may be, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You couldn’t do one thing for me? You couldn’t do one!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy thought he’d been doing the right thing… He thought that getting the music disks back would stop all this conflict, all these wars. It was the one thing he had left. One thing besides Tubbo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ve messed this up for no one but yourself, Tommy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blistering heat of the lava pool beneath the platform he was standing on made the world around him fade away. Almost as if nothing else had ever existed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Selfish</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It looked welcoming, like the home he never got to have. The home he could never see again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Irrational</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he were to jump, what would happen? He took a step closer to the ledge, the orange glow of the molten lava lighting up his face, making it redden as the heat seeped into all of his pores. How easy it would be to just let himself fall, to end this nonsense once and for all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alone</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one would care if he died. Things would carry on as normal, if not better. Tubbo was right, he was dangerous, selfish and irrational, he started wars and wreaked havoc wherever he went. It would be best for everyone if he were gone. Properly gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a step forward. And then another. And then one foot was hovering over the edge. All sounds, Wilbur and Sapnap laughing in his ear, the floating ghast-creature crying, the piglins wandering down below, it all turned to void in his ears. All he could hear was the bubbling of the magma, placed hundreds of meters below him. His body would probably shatter into pieces before he even got to burn. Near painless death, quick, easy. All he had to do was take one more step…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes to lean forward but before he could begin to fall a hand wrapped itself tightly around his upper arm. As soon as he felt the leather glove touch his skin he knew it was Dream who had stopped him. Why? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why would Dream stop him? He’s lost everything, he had nothing, Dream had taken everything from him. Why couldn’t he let him have this one thing?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy didn’t tear his gaze away from the pit, the longing to just still weighing heavily in his stomach. He couldn’t make himself look at the man who stopped him from ending his life, the only person who truly knew how far he’d fallen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your time to die.” Was all that Dream said as he pulled Tommy away from the edge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy blinked away the tears in his eyes as he felt a piece of himself break away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s never my time to die…”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am in pain.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>